The Lookout

The Lookout

She was perched at the edge
Of somewhere pathless and unexplored.

Her gaze skyward bound.

The pinkish pale blues
Drawn in
As the Sun’s final rays
Faded out.

The temperate evening air
Cool to her skin.

Held there.

Something stirred.

Somewhere
Within.

Like a storm bird in flight
A ruck of memories rushed in.

To that harrowed night she heard
You were never to be home
Again.

All turned ashen
An aberrant
Bottomless kind of despair.

She fell to her knees,
Clawed, hauled and gouged
At the gravel ground beneath.

She prayed for some sort of solace.
Any release!

Her lone hands
Thrown high
To that ethereal space.

That place
She’d imagined
She’d hoped you were embraced.
Held lovingly
Eternally
In a kind of celestial grace…

Entering a primordial, spectral-like state.

With her hands raw and reeling
She prayed,
And beseeched!

“To all the Gods!

Both above and below.

Have it all cast away!

This turmoil that churns
Deep, dark and grey.

To all that is Holy,
For all that I am!
Take this bloodied heartbreak from my hands!”

As sure
She was certain
The night meets day’s end.

A reverberating voice,
Arose from deep in her bones.

“My dear one,” It said,
“Fear not
This time of cold.

Fear not the fight,
Our strength is your own.

The givers of light.
We are all one.

Cast aside your torment.
Surrender your doubts.

Trust.

This too
Shall pass.

In our names
As in yours.

Amen.”

And so sat in the present.
Time on.
Years having since passed by.

Both death and despair,
So many loves lost.
Pains come and gone
From her life.

The scars been borne.
Some fashioned light
Several etched deep.

Her character primed quite severely
And yet still…
Magnificently steeped.

For she now stands in a reverence
And holds an understanding in her very veins.

Her growth and life’s gain
Could only have come to be
Through this kind of caustic pain.

So the lesson here learned?

Embrace the ache
And turn inside.
For the answers and strength you seek,
In truth within you lie.

And as certain
As in your heart
Is known further to.

A bolder, braver woman nor man;
A more arresting soul indeed
Absent of this suffering and heartache
Could have never been shaped.